Showing posts with label home. Show all posts
Showing posts with label home. Show all posts

Monday, December 10, 2018

imagining myself upstairs, typewriter click clacking, glue licking. can we follow the aesthetic of 2017 clown "Grimoira" style of floral print, rich reds + purples, piles of books, LAMPS?
(how important is a color scheme, really? in my imagining it's often very clear, such a MOOD, such a way to shift into a new reality. new realm? is it mre about the style or the space? schedule? is it back to one notebook lifestyle or would it help to have a planner? def need WALL CALENDAR and visual lists.
DESIGNATED SCREEN TIME. HOLY SHIT.
sun and lamp light. an unnecessary amount of fabric. (does a studio have art on the walls or is that just distracting? what is good enough to look at all the time? a bedroom certainly can have full walls -- posters, postcards, drawings, lovely things. a collection that feels like myself, not holding onto something for someone. not an ARCHIVE but an expression. but i suppose too the lists have to go somewhere. living space or work space? CAN THERE ALWAYS BE PAPER? Can i start to actually use it?)
Opened the box of the Numinous tarot, seven of candles (wands) comes flying out -- the card i drew for the new year (unknowingly kinda) on Samhain (but of course i did -- also need to call on the High Priestess / The Diviner more often to trust, to follow my intuition and let my body go first. Mind will catch up. Move my hands to move the cards. Find it with a feeling. /// Looking for a feeling! The body knows some things the mind doesn't!! /// I'm now wishing for space to MOVE, dance, sing, play. Wishing for knowledge + skill to teach Pochinko play. (Could I really go to the clown farm?!) Making this year about -- courage, expression, light, opening, creation, strength in self, support in community, FIRE. resistance. power. commitment! positivity?! SUCCESS?!?!
also, drink less.

[look how even the pencil breaks, refuses to work, doesn't even cooperate to erase. the words must stay. of course the only pen I find is PURPLE of course. thank the gods of course of course]

Wednesday, October 31, 2018

tarot for the week (never mind it’s for the year)

seven of candles / wands

i have been really ducking lazy and even tho this week was supposed to end that and get back into GET SHIT DONE mode, i have not done a very good job at that. lots of playing games on my phone. lots of lazing around in bed all day, staying up late drinking. lots of sex. (obviously it’s not all bad!)
so today i ask the cards what medicine i need for the rest of this week to get back into high gear. here i receive SEVEN OF WANDS (candles in the numinous deck) which screams fierce, courageous, knowing and holding my own power. fucking GOALS let’s get right.

i keep telling myself i don’t have time or i’m not ready to start looking at those art life help books but i’m just making excuses. i need to get some advice from those books and also find a better visual way to keep track of my goals. THIS FEELS SO REDUNDANT. i’m tired of falling into the same loops. i’m tired of having to teach myself the same lessons. i’m tired of screens.

also there really is so much to do in the short term future that it’s hard to imagine making time for this stuff, but actually i think it’s integral to making the right choices about what’s next. i need to be looking for s place to live and figuring out more steady income, plus defining and strengthening my relationship with jerel, which also means helping them get to california and then back here with their car. so in thinking about that trip, having my own place, making more green beans, i need to be placing myself in a strong central position, not trying to accommodate for everyone and everything else before meeting my own needs. this means making time and space for art projects goddammit. this has to be #1 priority for the new year! new home, new partner, new life, new me.

last year i attempted to put my healing first, which sometimes worked and sometimes didn’t but i think i’ve made a little progress. this year i’ll prioritize art projects (personal and collaborative) and productive relationships. building a nest that supports my mental health and my work. finding gigs that will let me feel more stable while also maintaining my independence. seeking funding for art projects. finding new ways to clown. making plans for the longer term instead of living only in seasons. holding space and being a safety net for my partner in a way that supports their growth and independence. fucking commit to writing. commit to creating sacred spaces and communing with spirits. commit to magic practice as well as art practice on the damn daily. routine can be ritual!! these are not bad words!!! writing, singing, playing.

(also while writing this i kept thinking of january as technically the new year and even tho that’s far away being like well whatever but i just remembered today is SAMHAIN which is witches new year, duh!! okay i’m already on the right track. i like this card for this year. gonna GET IT!)

SO THIS WEEK to get on track, i need to freaking organize my to do list and start knocking shit off. i should try using that app again, i was having a lot of success with that. at least it’s a good idea till i come up with something better. (jerel seemed to have some ideas a while back, when they saw how frazzled i felt half the time. ask them again?) remember that getting the bullshit over-with means more time for the goods.

to do lists
organize for alice meeting
pay therapist
prepare for paris
go to sleep early

Sunday, January 21, 2018

do you remember the children's book "frederick" by leo lionni?

the good feeling i've been riding took a dip last night and i'm worried it'll run away and i still won't have pinned it down at all. it's so hard to even believe it enough to say it, or if i manage to find the words, they'll become only that, and the feeling will fade. but now that it's a question it's better to just do it... right?

i can already feel myself overthinking this. that is the last thing i want to do. what do i have? i have these fast fast fingers and i can type my brain better than i think! i can write the words my mind makes up! i can sound like a real me in text! (i know because laylee told me that 15 years ago and rex told me so today and so i have to BELIEVE or what if i lose it or what if there's something important i could be doing that i miss because i haven't done anything about it. you know.)

it's so hard to believe. it's so hard to let myself remember what i'm good at.

BUT after xmas after snata craws and rodent carols and another round of GREAT GROUP i was near convinced, i clowned for myself in the mirror and i was able to get there which surprised me - but why should it? donna said not to look at ourselves to practice our turns and i totally understand that advice. but so often when i look at the mirror and i see this strange face and i think this can't possibly be me or be real or be anything at all, and i just shut down. for so long i have turned away i have pushed my nails into my palms to unsee i have gritted my teeth and pushed breath through to see to be anything else. now i find that in the times in the late night in the mirror i can explore and see what this body can do. i can see how to find the biggest expressions of the face, i can elasticize.


FORGET FORGET FORGET

i forget. i forget who the body belongs to. i froget we frog together. the mirror thing, with the perfect dissociative cocktail, surprises and delights. the mirror thing becomes elastic, electric, fantastic.

the thing that hurt to look at, the thing i could never understand how to belong to, i find this thing, when stared down, goes wild. it can't behave and doesn't want to try. it wasted a lot of toilet paper.

this is only partially a new discovery. the feeling is in the body, some of it is already memorized. it's burning embers in there all the time, even though i forget.

i guess i'm rambling now. the important part is -- i have gotten so tired of beating myself up for being bad at stuff. of course that sounds very reasonable written down in such a way. but the things i'm bad at are things that many people find necessary to function - eating, sleeping, organizing belongings, remembering information, simple math, wearing clothes, forming words, etc. i don't really want to care about being bad at all that mess. it happens or it doesn't. i can't remember the names of important people or pretty much anything i learned in school. i can't remember why i hate mother teresa until i look it up on wikipedia (and promptly forget the facts again, but i remember the feeling).

i remember the feeling i remember the feeling i remember the feeling

i am toying with the idea of applying to physical theatre school. i am considering how to make my body into a rubber band or flower. i want to be able to squeeze everything out of the present moment and explode it out of myself. i want to roll around and jump and shriek and freak and confuse the fuck out of people. i want to present another way to be.

if not me, then who? if not a someone with hardly any logical memory but great arches, then what am i even around for? surely someone out there is gonna do it. surely they could stand some company.

this was all made abundantly clear, several times in fact, right around the winter solstice. as it turns out, that was right when i was completing my first saturn return - and perfect timing to say fuck you everybody, i don't care what you think, i can see so clearly what is important. (reminder of what is important: friends, love, art, magic. this is an incomplete list but you get the idea.)

morgan got back in town for the holiday and wanted to go out to the bar with friends. she picked the so-called irish pub, not knowing that a bunch of us had gone there for trivia the night before (don't worry, we lost) so many of our group didn't come along this time. and it ends up me & brett (& later kat) in the weirdos corner with morgan's most type A segment of friends all crowded into the booth on the other side and all i can say is "YEP here i am again indeed, oh and what now? i'm doing an in depth study of mental health, now that i'm back from the loony bin" and there's nothing like a night like this to remind me how much i don't want that life, with the husbands and the babies and the business casual luncheons. UGH writing that is so obvious i could just spit on myself but no no that is most of the world and i think i can be allowed to write it down occasionally. the important part here is that i maybe felt a little embarrassed at first and especially trying to explain wtf i'm doing with myself, yes back in memphis, yes living with my folks, yes again, but more than ever, i feel like answering this questions is more a nuisance than anything else. i don't really care if they judge me for the answers. i don't really give a fuck what they think, truly. are they judging me for being practically unemployed and living with my parents at 30 and oh ordering another drink this late? yes they definitely are. and am i judging them for being salaried breeders who always vote democrat? yes i definitely am. so we're even.

i'm tired of the waffling shuffling pretending i can play for both sides. when i lived in baltimore i felt like 2 people in 1 body-- a demure, polite, if slightly eccentric, part-time librarian with sensible shoes and nothing but patience, and a barefoot feral drunk at the local anarchist commune / urban farm (except not even totally that because i still had to make sure the bills got paid and be The Sensible One which is not me at all and was boring as fuck).

i'm tired of fucking around with that world pretending i can play along. i just can't hack it.
i know i know i don't have it. i'm far from it. it's been six months now since i got out of the loony bin and came home. it doesn't feel like that long but i know my folks are getting antsy for me to figure my shit out and get a move on. meanwhile i don't want to rush making a decision because that is what keeps getting me into messes, it seems like. but i think i'm getting somewhere this time. maybe.


when i was a kid we lived in a small bungalow house in the artsy neighborhood of town, before it got gentrified. the dining room in the center of the house had 8 walls, branching off to the front hallway, our bedrooms, the kitchen, the bathroom, the back yard. "the octagonal room" was the true center & the heart of the house. at that table, my mama accidentally served us inedible cake decorations at the table. at that table, we grew crystals for SIX WHOLE WEEKS on plastic toys & charcoal for a science fair project. and under that table, most importantly, we made our own world. no fort could compare to the one on the persian carpet, table cloth on all sides, and pillows snatched out of beds. what did we do under there? i'm not quite sure but it was all magical, always, because it happened there, in the secret sacred space.

that's the space i want to create for people. if i am not here to take people under the table, i'm not sure what i am doing at all.

***there are other worlds there are other worlds there are other worlds* and they are all around us**

now i've got 3 glasses of wine in me and i still haven't packed so. i'm annoyed bc i dont think i even said what i was trying to say. or it all come out wrong. fuck all. the point is, i am frederick. (or i wish i were.)

Tuesday, May 23, 2017

(sloppy words found on an envelope, some time during or after clown class, spring 2017)

i always stand there thinking I COULD DO THAT so why not?
it must take a massive leap. no more pretending to be REAL, no more faking.
i'm tired of being the Responsible one. ugh

kiss them up dearest touching (????)
kiss face to wind to sip or spin
kick up the dirt that isn't dancing

if i can't go now, i never will go
if i can't know (?) now, who will fucking tell me?
no one will mourn nor remember you
it's already too late

oh to write the things that think
before the thoughts are formed
BUT how to be so quick?!




somehow all this bland shit is just
pressing the pause button
in between what is surely
the greatest show on earth or ???
I'm craving (?) to get out of
this version of myself.
NOTHING I WANT is allowed.
is that me? or is that just
totally pathetic. i'm tired
of feeling totally pathetic.
i want it all to be a rush (?????)

i have a lot of work to do.
realize these notes will never be read.
even you will not read them.
become as indecipherable as possible.
you are not made to last.

i want to make everyone believe in magic
that is hard + true + dissonant.
i want to be bugs + dirt + children +
death. how can we bring it.
it's not here in this place with these people.
you didn't find the thing you thought.
it's not your fault. you had to try.
it's not a place, it's a feeling + a purpose. you
know that. you can't rely on a new location.
how is it that you feel more bright and
alive now that nothing is real, no one is
awake, and you've got four drinks inside?
not even blurry silly, just convinced. This is
not the hovel you're looking for. the right
answer is not gonna come in a flask. there
is no right answer. but you have to kill the
feeling that something is wrong + find out

Wednesday, December 09, 2015

night call

i have a lot to say and a lot of need to say it. it's hard to make myself make time for writing down words. i usually write the first nugget of an idea, intending to continue later, and just never do. half the posts on this blog from the last year are unfinished, you can probably tell.

i've just been sucked into an internet wormhole for the last 2-3 hours. my latest "hobby" is obsessively saving websites i like on the wayback machine so that they are PRESERVED FOREVER by great mother internet. this evening, the category was livejournals and yes you have to click through the whole journal to get every page archived, but there's a big chunk on the screen there so you can't do a whole lot of reading while you're saving, which is very irritating and not productive.

first of all, i miss livejournal. which is blasphemous, i know, since i held out for so long and never really got so into it, always solo floundering about over here instead. but i miss the whole concept, people sharing such small thoughts and writing mostly for themselves-- for the exercise and for the document and for the hell of it. facebook has never been remotely close to that, and never will be. (that very thought makes me want to delete fucking facebook right now, but what am i gonna do, sit over there and be the only non-russian person on livejournal? no.) i wonder if people are still writing somewhere... online? on paper? word documents? and, are these people, are my friends and peers still writing at all? (other than the ones who are being paid to do it, the lucky beautiful bastards) or is it really just something that young people do? and i dunno, i guess i'm old, aren't they all on snapchat? or is there anything at all like lj for these kids nowadays. i'm saying.

and also just seeing these quick flashes, each page a new season, the ups and downs, stresses and excitements, everything so huge and overwhelming, the passion, the potential. and what are we doing now? some of us took off like rockets, having seemingly always known exactly what we wanted. but the rest of us (the real "us") seem to roll along and dip and fall and land and roll along some more. maybe i'm mostly talking about me, but it seems that it's just hard to do the things we're meant to do and harder not to hate every day. i know we're living in a broken world within a spirit-crushing, oppressive system, but to remember so clearly, to look back at all your bubbling words and feelings and the THRILL and maybe you didn't know exactly what you wanted to do with your life, but you knew what it felt like. and we none of us could make it happen.

i'm tired of blaming myself for not being good enough, for fucking up or feeling like one, for not having things "figured out." actually i do have it figured out dammit and what i figure is that this culture wasn't built for us and that's why we're broken. it's time to take it back. and i don't care if you think it sounds stupid because it's fucking true, and if you know it's true, you won't think it's stupid. so let's fucking go. i'm tired of seeing my friends with tense faces and old news and it fucking kills me and i'm so sad that you're not loving your life because you're the best and i want you to have everything and i want us to build it beautiful together.

my life is a goddamn wreck. OR IS IT??? the world is a goddamn wreck.
i have experienced beautiful wonderful terrible things.
i know there is a whole lot more out there than the tv would have me believe.
i just ate a whole bunch of delicious dumpstered goat cheese and avocado on wheat toast and it was delicious and i loved it. the whole fridge is full and all of it was free.
i've met real life witches and i've seen what's in the cupboard and it's amazing.
i know i have to make the steps to change myself.
first i'm moving to baltimore free farm, for the garden and the sweet gentle people and the warehouse event space and the evolution and the egalitarianism, and for john waters.
but the moving, as i've learned before, is not enough. i have to craft a space for myself and my community, i have to create the things i want because they don't exist, i have to make it good.
probably this means i will have to cut other things out, which will be hard, but it's long overdue.
i'll jump off that bridge when i come to it, and i'll let you know how it goes.
there are so many things i need to learn and if i don't start now, i'll be dead soon.
i really do want you all to join me, i want us to go together. it'll be so much easier, and much more fun. and if not here, then where? what does the good life look like to you? how do we get there? what's stopping us?

this is the end of the black cherry cider, and the end of the night, almost dawn. if i can sleep, i'll try for some good visions and if i remember, i'll write them down.

Friday, May 22, 2015

the porch problem

when you think you are performing for someone but there is in fact no audience 

when you try to create something for yourself but can't stop thinking about the impossible potential audience 

why I never write anymore 

why I sing only during dishes

when will I learn 

or figure how to forgive myself


amy and I talked about the selfishness of artists and wondered if that's what it takes to make anything worthwhile. do I have to stop everything else? not that it is anything but I haven't written in weeks, months, years. what do I want anymore? can I blame the place or the job or just me?

a borrowed beer on the porch, a beer too often. a smuggled smoke, ashes again. 

these small sacrifices grow a larger harvest. they don't answer the questions or the problem. 

where can I go? my home under the hill? I've almost stopped believing. 

there's truly no place for me. 

the truth is I'm stuck again and I hate myself for it. the worser truth is that I don't see any way out. even though there are people out there waiting for me, wanting me to bring the fire, I can't believe that it's the right fire. I only have one flame and it's gone out. nothing to be done now. 

have another smoke, another drink, don't think.
the porch is the only place you'll ever be, there's nothing here but what you see. 

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

take me back to the river of dirt

go back to possum country. the house must be bigger on the inside. breathe into it, let the wind blow in. the woods will be waiting. let the sun be the light.

whats the hurry? you're not going anywhere and they're still waiting.

seek them out.

Saturday, October 20, 2012

the cicadas in a song near made me cry
it's been so long since i've been home
(it's not a place i've ever known)
i dont remember going home

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

the world is on the verge of calamity

banjo is hard. this week i realized i was doing a lot of things wrong and i almost feel like i've had to start over. i'm gonna try to start practicing every day.
my new lamp goes CLICK----CLICK and i don't think i like it. at least, i don't think it was worth moving my old chunky lamp.
i swept up the dirt from my egg and put it in an empty salsa jar.
brett bought me a book and it came in the mail a couple days ago. it is called DIRT and so far it's pretty crazy. i learned about roman bathhouses and plagues and priests that kiss lepers and filthy monks. COOL!!! i know, right? i'm honored that brett read about this book and thought of disgusting old me. i hope it starts talking about trash soon.
today at work i filed and organized and rearranged for hours and hours. i have a strange desire to redo the whole system of the file cabinets and redistribute all the papers around in the office and just generally make a mess and clean it up. at dinner i was thinking about filing. this may become a problem.

listening to: bonfire madigan - o'sanity

the worst

just now i was trying to set up the new lamp my mom sent me and switch it with my old lamp and i was scooting my stupid cluttered desk and i heard something fall and it didn't sound bad but then i looked behind the desk and there was dirt everywhere and it took a second to hit me: i broke my egg plant. katherine gave that to me months and months ago, and the worst part is, it was still unhatched. i've been waiting for the right time to crack the top and start growing the marigold inside. i almost did it when i moved into this dorm, but i was waiting for the "perfect" time. i guess this is a lesson for the perfectionist part of me... dr. b was getting on to me about that today, too. now i'm really upset. i guess i'm gonna eat my weight in chocolate, and maybe peanut butter. what should i do? i guess i'll try to scoop it into a bag... this is so depressing.

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

the way of it

every night i go to bed with nothing to wake up for.

it gets old.




why do you guilt trip me when i make you depressed because i'm depressed? it sucks.

Monday, September 24, 2007

everything that's breathing is also busying dying

so i was intending to post once i had some pictures and/or video to include with the text.... but yeah, it's not happening and you'll just have to wait.
what can i say? school's been back in session for a few weeks now... it's actually going okay. this is largely due to the fact that i changed my major back to english lit on the second day of classes. ha! take that, science, i could not stomach thee. my schedule looks like this:
MWF 10:30-11:20 Honors Biblical Literature
MWF 11:30-12:20 Modern Short Fiction
MWF 1:30-??? working at the library
W 8:30-10:10am Video Writing and Directing
TR 2-3:15 World Theatre II
TR 3:30-4:45 Intro to Creative Writing
and i generally work on tuesday and thursday morning as well. i got a raise! $7/hr baybee oh yeahhhhh. freaking rolling in it!!
and where does the money go, you ask?
well, this past week most of it went to drugs. i have been sick with bronchitis and it is awful. rite aid has my paycheck. other than that.. we buy a few groceries (the ones we don't glean in other ways), some toilet paper, and a good bit of beer. at least two people are drunk in the house every day. are we wasting away? perhaps. are we loving it? sometimes. are we considering another path? not really. so far everything is going as well as it could, i suppose.
realize i say this about a home that is haunted, filled with drama, and loaded with tension i could eat with a whole loaf of bread. it is ridiculous. on saturday, py confronted mal in the only way he knows how:
"so when are you moving out?"
yikes. he doesnt know her like the rest of us... yes, she has made a lot of promises she hasnt kept. she says this time is different. and yes, she's said that a thousand times before. but now she's got AA meetings every night and drug testing once a week starting in october. i just hate that we didnt have a real house meeting, and come to a decision TOGETHER rather than just sort of poking around and being rude and giving the poor girl a week to move out.... but the drugs, the monetary choices, the disappearances of stuff within our own home.. these things never stopped, even when we saw her improving. so i dont know, this is what it's come to. i can't say i'm thrilled but honestly i dont know what to say at all.
i dont even want to get into the sex drama. all i can say is that it's no fun to be sitting there bored when you are pretty positive that whoever is having sex in the room next door. especially when you have been looking forward to seeing this person for months and then they just come over to fuck your roommate, apparently. am i wrong here, or does that suck a little? either way, i recognize that this is my jealous, possessive side coming out... and oh, how it comes out. it chooses the worst ways, at the worst times, sneaking up on me when i'm drunk and too angry to put my courtesy filter on. well, fucking woops. i dont regret a whole lot of things.... i guess it sort of sucks that i stood in the middle hall room in the middle of our house and yelled about how i hate plastic, jesus, electricity, the whole modern world, the whole house and everyone in it. but i was depressed and it was all true. what can i say? it's weird to apologize for things that are still true, even if the timing and the delivery were inappropriate. not that i REALLY hate everyone in the whole house... although i definitely felt like it at the time. and that was what was important. i dont like containing anger. but like i said, i dont want to get into the rest of the house drama. there's so much and it probably shouldnt all go on the internet anyway. i'll try to keep you vaguely updated anyhow....
so leroy is taking mallory's room. he and his boondock will be staying with us until at least january, which will be fun because maybe everyone will stop accusing ME of being the craziest person in the house, and also just because i love leroy. i am looking forward to lots of free meals, free drinks, and goofy adventurings. however, leaving with mallory are her weezy dog and lucie cat and the rest of the female energy of the house. i will be a lone she-wolf. loucifur will luckily provide me with some fellow cat spirits, but even then, he's a little bastard. as was determined the other day... if lou were 6 feet tall, he would rule the whole freaking world. maybe i'm wrong but i dont think i could say that about most cats. perhaps because lou would be a tyrant and a master of surprise attacks from overhead. the point is: i'm thinking again about getting a kitten. i know i know i can't help it. but is it a good idea? i can't tell. i want a lady kitty friend, at any rate. and i haven't found any elsewhere yet.
however, i have made a few new friends so far this year. wonders! new friends make me happier than almost anything. i dont want to speak too soon so i'll give some better details later.
today has been rainy. i left home right after brandon got back from BR, a city i have been trying to avoid at all possible costs (but i end up going for the good shows). drove to school as i've been doing.. it's sort of nice although i end up bumping a lot of parked cars. shhhh! py constantly teases me about my driving skills, which i suppose are somewhat stuck in the mud, rather than improving... but speaking of BR, i drove from there to NOLA for the first time last weekend! and i didnt fuck up at all (although py would tell you differently, dont listen to him because he was wasted and doesnt remember anything) and we made it down in one safe piece. i was a kickass designated driver for my little drunken men.
point: it's not raining anymore. i was slightly late for bible class, despite my timely driving. i always goof around in the bathroom and forget that class is starting. woops! i thought i was going to really hate that class, but it's turned out to be freaking awesome. my professor basically tells us that everything we learned in sunday school is a load of bull and we talk about the real origins and meanings of old testament stories. he's hilarious and i especially love it when he talks about how stupid fundamentalists are. it is awesome. then i went to modern short fiction where i get to sit next to my friend david who makes me giggle all day. today we were discussing colette's "gigi" and about the sexuality of foods like asparagus and lobster. it was pointless but i took more notes in class today than i have all semester. usually i just write "FREUD" because that is all that our teacher talks about and it sucks so usually i read or write something else. being in a writing class has been really fun, just to get into the habit of writing again. plus my professor is awesome. so yeah, basically i've got a good bunch of classes this semester... i might go so far as to say this has been the best semester i've had yet! but perhaps i shouldn't speak so soon... midterms are coming up, after all. yipe.
but i don't care because i'm going to memphis this weekend!! look out, i'm coming home and i'm bringing my nutty friends with me! we are coming up on friday to see Mr. Airplane Man at gonerfest and i'm so freaking excited. we have seen a lot of great shows recently, it has been really awesome. last weekend we saw Witch Hunt at a house show in BR. brandon got their record, and i got a patch and a book about new orleans. even though i damaged my right ankle somewhat early in the evening, i still managed to dance on one foot and have a kickass time. and that ankle is all better now, although apparently this weekend i destroyed my left big toe and surrounding area.... doing god knows what. i just woke up with it all mangled. i'm hoping that it will just figure itself out and heal somewhat like the rest of my feet wounds always do. i have been realizing how freaking weird my feet look because of all the times i've fucked them up and just sort of let them figure out how to let me walk on them again. oh well.
i keep getting off track. the real point to all this is that py and i have been volunteering for the past couple weekends at the green project, where they've started doing a matinee show every saturday. this past weekend, we cooked the 'free vegan food' which they advertise for every show, and we got lots of compliments. py's soupy shitasaurus was a smashing success, of course. that stuff is delicious! vegan slop is really growing on me. mmmmmmm... py got free goodies from the band because his food was so good! lucky bastard. we danced our asses off and had a great time, despite the lackluster crowd.... hilary, py, and i made up for it with our energy and enthusiasm. the bands were all amazing! i havent been to such an all around good show in a really long time. first, an acoustic band called the Let Down played while we sat at their feet. the two ladies had beautiful voices and played guitar, although one also sometimes played a musical saw. a boy with funny hair also played guitar. their songs were about being alcoholic and in love and they were wonderful. then, Fake Problems went on a few minutes later. leroy and i had just finished pre-gaming outside and as we were walking in during the second song, i said to him "i hope EVERYBODY's DANCING!" and of course no one was. so py and i took that shit up a notch. or four. they sang country folk punk rock songs about capitalism. it was also awesome, and they gave py a free 7inch. then Parsley Flakes played. they wore silly clothes and sang songs about "zapatistas and white people," among other things. we danced like fools! then their amp started smoking 2 songs before the end of the set. it was intense.. but also hilarious and ridiculous. it was an amazing show and an amazing weekend... except for all the drama, of course, but i suppose that sometimes it can't be helped, and so it must be ignored. i'm getting better at this.
i forget if there were other things i meant to say, but if there were, i should save them for another day. this has gotten rather long, and i congratulate you if you made it this far. perhaps i will see you again soon.

Saturday, January 03, 2004

i'm back, loves! and i hope to god you've missed me as i've missed you... please someone call and/or feed me.
we got back home around 7:15 this evening and i called brock immediately -- i didn't even get my shit out of the car, which is kind of sad. but he squealed on the phone and he has had total cabin fever all week.
the good news: HE GOT HIS LICENSE. HE GOT A CAR. HOLY SHIT.
the bad news: he isn't really allowed to drive it yet, because of his utter lack of practice.
it doesn't matter. it's sad that he couldn't practice more during this week, so that he could come and whisk me away the second my little toes touched memphis earth. that's okay okay okay whatever. we went to bookstar for a few hours, and ran into jo, and had silly tarot card/teen read fun. what a wonderful world. a bit after she left, we became absolutely enthralled with this astrological book. brock and i are sick believers in the cosmos and accidentally spent the whole night looking at it. we read this big description of brock's Leo/Virgo Cusp of Exposure, which seemed mostly very fitting. it said they are very secretive because of strong self-judgement, so they usually find only one person who accepts them as they are. brock read the whole thing aloud and at the end he was like "well i guess my person is you" and we had a moment and his hair was very soft. i couldn't quit staring at it while he was reading. in fact, i couldn't quit staring at him on a whole. it was so great to see him again. it's kind of funny/sick that i was so anxious to be with him, since he was the last person i saw before our trip, and he's the only memphian i talked to while i was gone. there are some people i really want to see that i've barely seen all break, but what can i say? brock is brock. i would feel silly about being so excited to see him, but he was feeling the same way. although sometimes i wonder if he actually likes me or just likes me being around. god damn. at any rate, the night was kind of anticlimactic, actually, but it served its general purpose -- disintegrating that damned cabin fever.
i know that if i don't post about my time with the grandfolks soon, i won't do it at all. because that's how i be. maybe i'll just post some self-explanatory photos.
teaser: I FELL OFF SO MANY FUCKING BEDS.

listening to: liz phair - glory